


waking up to find your love's not real

by notavodkashot



Category: Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Bad End AU, Cyclical Storytime, Everything is suffering all the time, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalyptic Undertones, Purposeful tense shift, Repeating Storytelling, Unreliable Narrator, angst no fluff, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notavodkashot/pseuds/notavodkashot
Summary: Leon steps into the pitch, uniform pristine and cape at the ready.Today is the day, he knows it in his bones, today is the battle that will define history in Galar. Today—
Relationships: Dande | Leon/Kibana | Raihan
Comments: 34
Kudos: 71





	waking up to find your love's not real

Leon steps into the pitch, uniform pristine and cape at the ready. 

Today is the day, he knows it in his bones, today is the battle that will define history in Galar. Today— 

_The girl, Gloria, yes, her name was Gloria and she liked sour things more than sweet, and made Hop smile every day, so much so Leon had brought her a pokemon too, to sponsor her along his brother in their journey across Galar, and she was not what he’d been expecting, not at all drawn into the hype of his persona as Champion, she was blunt but kind and fierce but cheerful and deep down Leon knew it, had known it, his sun was setting and hers rising, it was time, all his time, she was_ — __

Raihan stands before him. 

For a moment, the world wobbles in place, like a vinyl disc in his dad’s turntable, when he was small and didn’t know better and the needle bumps and the sound s c r e a m s for a second before it all falls back, picks right up where he left off, and he— 

_Remembers the first time he kissed him, kisses him, they’re fourteen and screaming at each other, stuck in an echo chamber of rivalry and training and it’s raining outside and the tent has collapsed and he’s said something dumb and Raihan isn’t taking it today, isn’t letting him win, win, win, the true win is holding hands by the fire, even though Raihan’s still pissed, will be pissed for another three weeks, and then he’ll text Leon a picture of flygon doing something silly, and they’ll be fine, they’ll always be fine, he’s in love with his rival and his rival loves him enough to never stop challenging, stop pushing, stop, stops and—_

Throws the cape off, dramatic and gallant, and the stands s c r e a m because he’s always known how to put up a good show. 

“It ends now, Leon,” Raihan says, blue eyes bright, “it ends today.” 

Leon leaps. 

* * *

“You can’t keep going back,” Sonia said, standing in the doorway, like she could really stop him from going out, if he really wanted to. 

But Raihan cared about her, he did, so she did stop him, because he wasn’t going to push her out of the way. 

He wanted to, he really did, but he wouldn’t. 

Couldn’t. 

“Someone has to,” he said, “someone who hasn’t given up on him yet.” 

It hit below the belt, that, hit hard and brutal as if he’d just shoved her out of the way. He watched her go, watched her back ramrod straight and her stride long and deep down wished she’d stayed and yelled at him, instead. 

Only Leon did that, though. 

And Leon was— 

* * *

Leon steps into the pitch, uniform pristine and cape at the ready. 

Today is the day, he knows it in his bones, today is the battle that will define history in Galar. Today— 

_There was a girl, and his brother loved her, loved her smile and her snide little quips that didn’t bruise, loved the way she was better, stronger, made him want to be that, be more, be, there was a girl and he knows her name, knows her face, her name is_ — __

Raihan stands before him. 

For a moment, the world wobbles in place, like a vinyl disc in his dad’s turntable, when he was small and didn’t know better and the needle bumps and the sound s c r e a m s for a second before it all falls back, picks right up where he left off, and he— 

_Wants so badly to kiss him again, it’s been so long now, it’s been so crazy with the Gym Challenge and all of Rose’s demands and his time slips through his fingers like sand, but he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t know how to make it right, what if Raihan hates him for it, what if Raihan is angry and he—_

Throws the cape off, dramatic and gallant, and the stands s c r e a m because he’s always known how to put up a good show. 

“It ends now, Leon,” Raihan says, blue eyes bright, “it ends today.” 

Leon leaps. 

* * *

“Perhaps you shouldn’t go out today,” Oleana said, looking grim as ever. 

Raihan liked her better in his memories, when she was high heels and lipstick and claw-like nails in immaculate polish. He liked her better when she was segmented and easily disassembled in his mind, easy to dismiss, to shrug off, to not worry about. 

In miner’s clothes – they were not _miner clothes_ , he’d been told that before, but that’s what they looked like to him and he was still free to think whatever he wanted, in the privacy of his own mind – and thick glasses and short hair and not one bit of glamorous artifice, Oleana became someone one couldn’t ignore. 

“You need data,” Raihan replied, because this was purely a transactional relationship, had always been, their goals aligned just enough to not chafe so a ceasefire had been signed. “Don’t you?” 

“I do,” she said, tone borderline indifferent, “but the storm is stronger than usual, and if you die, I will have a hard time replacing you.” 

“Oh, that’s a lie and you know it,” he snarled a laugh, “I heard Hop is _your_ apprentice now, not Sonia’s.” 

The sting of her hand burned in a strangely soothing way. Raihan wore the imprint of her fingers like a badge of pride, and imagined everyone got out of his way because of it, not because they could see the steady spread of the poison slowly marching on his skin. 

He couldn’t wear one of those bulky suits, after all, if he wanted to be recognized, to indulge in the pretend. After all, it was a race, of sorts. A competition. 

Friendly rivalry. 

* * *

Leon steps into the pitch, uniform pristine and cape at the ready. 

Today is the day, he knows it in his bones, today is the battle that will define history in Galar. Today— 

_She steps up to face the challenge he can’t, to defeat what’s defeated him, she’s brave and strong and s c r e a m i n g when she falls, Hop s c r e a m s and Leon s c r e a m s and the world itself is torn in half but he can’t wrap his lips around her name, can’t force his tongue to trace the syllables, she’s, she is, she has_ — __

Raihan stands before him. 

For a moment, the world wobbles in place, like a vinyl disc in his dad’s turntable, when he was small and didn’t know better and the needle bumps and the sound s c r e a m s for a second before it all falls back, picks right up where he left off, and he— 

_Is at the base of the spire, evacuating and handling the dynamaxed pokemon there, trying to keep some semblance of order, and Leon thinks how he can’t fall, can’t fail, because Raihan is below him, Raihan is behind him, trusting blindly his back is safe turned to Leon, that Leon can do this, can reach out and make one damn thing right for once, no matter what, so he—_

Throws the cape off, dramatic and gallant, and the stands s c r e a m because he’s always known how to put up a good show. 

“It ends now, Leon,” Raihan says, blue eyes bright, “it ends today.” 

Leon leaps. 

* * *

“You’re the only one who can get close enough anymore.” 

Professor Magnolia looked exactly like Raihan reckoned she would, after… well. Raihan didn’t allow himself to think much of it, couldn’t afford himself the time for grief, because he was afraid if he started he might never end. 

Still, to outlive not one but two generations of your children, he wasn’t sure he would be strong enough to survive that. 

“Yes, well, our dates were always the highlight of his weeks,” Raihan replied, aiming for something to lighten the mood, and failing miserably. 

Just like he failed at everything, really. 

“Oleana will not consider this route, not so much for Hop’s sake but for her own research,” she explained, ignoring the quip, and stepped back from the open case so he could see its contents. 

“But you think I will?” Raihan asked, reaching out to pull it out so he can study the cursed thing in detail. 

“Who else?” The Professor smiled humorlessly. “You love him and you’ve seen what he’s become. You know what needs to be done.” 

Whose needs, Raihan did not ask. 

* * *

Leon steps into the pitch, uniform pristine and cape at the ready. 

Today is the day, he knows it in his bones, today is the battle that will define history in Galar. Today— 

_He watches her body fall off the edge of the spire, watches his brother leap after her, even though he must know, he_ must _know what the ragdoll-like movement of her limbs mean, what it all means, and they’re gone and he’s alone, never truly alone anymore, reaching out, offering, sheltering, me and not them, me, me, have me, take me, not them, none of them, I can_ — __

Raihan stands before him. 

For a moment, the world wobbles in place, like a vinyl disc in his dad’s turntable, when he was small and didn’t know better and the needle bumps and the sound s c r e a m s for a second before it all falls back, picks right up where he left off, and he— 

_Stretches his arms wide, his wings wide, wider still, widest of all, and the s c r e a m bubbles up like poison up his throat, he allows these visits, these challenges, allows them because he, them, he still remembers wanting it, wanting to prove himself, keeps him sharp and strong and reminds them all this is his, all of it, theirs, their own, land and sea and sky, the darkest sky, blanketed in his will, his power, flowing free, flowing, rushing, stretching, and the man keeps coming back, keeps fighting, keeps sharpening his edge, not a challenge but a treat, a promise, we’ll be rivals till we die, he’ll die and then—_

Throws the cape off, dramatic and gallant, and the stands s c r e a m because he’s always known how to put up a good show. 

“It ends now, Leon,” Raihan says, blue eyes bright, “it ends today.” 

Leon leaps. 

Leon. 

Leaps. 

Claws sharp, scales bristled, ready, ready, he knows how this works, he knows how. 

How. 

_How._

“There,” Raihan says, one arm wrapped around his back, holding him close, his face so close, his mouth just there, and Leon wants nothing more than to press their lips together, kiss him again, it has been _so long_ , “there.” 

He s c r e a m s instead, because Raihan twists the blade, turns it sideways where it’s stuck and Leon throws his head back, wrenches himself in the hold, writhing, raging, s c r e a m i n g. 

S c r e a m i n g. 

And then, 

“I’m going to throw you into the sea,” Raihan snarls, masterball flying, bouncing off the edge of Leon that’s ripping itself off, tearing itself free, leaving him bleeding and dying and choking in mud, “so deep no one will ever find you again, you _bastard_.” 

“I’m sorry,” Leon whispers, eyelids impossibly heavy, “I made a mess of things, didn’t I?” 

But Raihan can’t hear him, over the s c r e a m being forcefully dragged into the depths of the masterball, and by the time he’s calling his name, reaching for him, Leon’s too far away to hear. 

* * *

“It just be that way, sometimes,” Gloria says, small hand clutching Leon’s, pulling him away. 

Leon laughs, startled. 

Unsure. 

“I guess, yes.” 

They’re gone, by then. 

Free. 

There was something he had to do though, someone he has to see, he had to _—_

“Leon.” 

A sharper tug. 

“Yeah.” 

Maybe next time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/notavodkashot), if you'd like to scream at me about this.


End file.
